


Skeleton Songs

by olivemartini



Series: Infinity War Saga [4]
Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Black Panther - Freeform, Character Study, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Shuri - Freeform, canon character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-08 08:38:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14690441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olivemartini/pseuds/olivemartini
Summary: There were no funerals, not like when her father died, but how could their be?  There was nothing to bury, only ashes.Ashes to ashes and dust to dust.





	Skeleton Songs

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what the title means it has nothing to do with this I just wanted alliteration.
> 
> Also, I only saw Black Panther once and a few details are fuzzy, so any inaacuracies are my own. Corrections would be welcome.

When her father died, there was wailing in the streets for seven days.  

Shuri remembered the sound lifting up to meet her as she stood out on the balcony, the shock waves of the news moving through the crowd like ripples through water.  The wind was whipping at the skirt of her dress and her tears were streaking through the signs of mourning she had painted onto her face only minutes before, but it had not occurred to her to be afraid, to worry about the extra responsibility she would be forced to shoulder- that was for her brother, Tchalla, to think of, and for her to never even consider.  All she was thinking about was tradition and a daughter's duty, the lines that must be said and the prayers she must mutter to herself so he can find his way to rest with ease, how the priests must already be preparing her brother's coronation ( _for Wakanda can never be without a protector, that was the first lesson she learned from her father_ ) and the wood carvers working on impressing the ornate designs into her father's casket, all of it coming together to carry her father into the land of the resting one final time.

This time, there were no funerals.

It bothers her and makes the priests mutter about disrupting the natural order, but how could there be?  No one had died, they had only crumbled like the ruins of brittle buildings collapsing into their own weight, ashes to ashes and dust to dust.  Shuri had never been particularly religious, so she allows herself to take comfort in the idea that it is a burial of sorts, the way they were scattered across the land, in the water and the wind and the soil, becoming a part of the place that had birthed them.  Still, her brother was a king, and like all good kings, they deserved to be honored in death.

Shuri tries.  

She doesn't know what to do, not really, because she has suddenly stumbled upon a legacy that was never to be hers, had thrust upon her in a moment what her brother had been shaped for since the moment of his birth.  It was not to be hers, but suddenly it was- a title, a kingdom, a people, a history, all of it on her shoulders, and all of it alone, because there were gaping holes where her brother and her mother and a third of the council used to stand, all of them waiting to be filled with her having no clue who to choose.  She does her best to mourn.

The windows are thrown open on her orders, because without a body, the priests are not sure that the spirits are able to find a way home, a place to rest, and she wants to give her brother an easy entrance, should he choose to come back and watch her from the great beyond.  It's always either too hot or too cold, now, but she doesn't change her mind, just orders the giant black banners to be flung out over the window sills and flutter in the breeze, making the palace look like it has a permanent bruise whenever you see it from afar.

(It had been the general's husband who told her that, when he came to hold his wife for the first time since the Red Wave ( _that's what they're calling it, she's not sure who came up with the name.  Americans, probably.  They stake their claim on everything even when it happens to the entire world_ ) and whispered that that was how the whole damn country side looked, like one giant bruise.  Shuri liked the sound of it, their visible pain.)

 

 

 

It's uproar.

Complete chaos.

There is only the scattered remnants of a council and no voice of reason, no way for direction to be controlled.  This was the first time in history that Wakanda was without a black panther to protect it, and there was no one from any of the tribes ready to take up the mantle.

Not that it mattered.  Thanks to Killmonger, there was no way to let them take on the spirit of the Black Panther.  It had burned down to the roots except for the one that had revived her brother, and the gardens had not had enough time to grow back.

Which meant that it was all down to her.

"We are completely vulnerable."  Shuri closed her eyes and bent her head down towards her knees.  She had commanded they all sit on the floor, because she knew from attending council meetings that the highest ranking person ( _which, god save them, is her now_ ) should not allow themselves to be given any less than the highest placement in their own home but she could not bear to sit on the throne.  Now they all have cushions.  "There is no king.  No panther."  He spits the words out, does not enunciate the sounds, so they come out soft and rounded.  Open ended instead of demanding, like it might be a plea instead of a threat.  "There is no one to lead.  No one to protect."

 _All they see of me is a little girl,_ she thinks, angrily, but how can she blame them?  She has hidden away in her workshop and only shown her face when it suited her, and now they were left in the worst crisis they had ever seen with only a child to lead them.  

 _But I am more than a child,_ and its her brother's voice that she is hearing, an echo from when she would get frustrated enough to send all her inventions flying to the floor with a sweep of her arm and he would come to her, put his hand under her chin and force her to look at him.   _I'm the smartest person the world has ever seen.  I've made more advancements in technology than the rest of the world combined.  I cannot correct the past, but I can correct our future.  This will not be our downfall._ I  _will not be Wakanda's downfall._

"We're not."  Shuri stands and tries to make herself look the way her mother used to, shoulders back and head high, regal.  Like she knows what she's doing.   "We don't need the Black Panther anymore."  This is the end of an era.  There is no place for old traditions in this new world, when people could crumble at the snap of a finger.  "We can do better."

It's clear that they don't believe her yet.

But they will.

 

 

See, the throne was never meant for her.

She would read of other girls from other lands and in other families who were in the same position, who got passed over for the rule because of the perceptions of their father's, but for her, it wasn't like that.  It was just that her potential lay in a different place, where she would help their people through the things her mind could create rather than the laws she enacted and the justice she carried out.  Her father was the one to teach her that without innovation and invention a society would grow stagnant, like the circle of life might stop spinning and send them all spiraling downwards into nothing, into collapse.

He taught her a  lot of things.

It was just that he taught her brother so much more.

 

 

 

 _Wakanda needs protecting,_ her father had said, when he was first teaching T'challa how to fight.   _Wakanda must always have a line of defense.  That will fall to you, after I am gone._

Shuri had been hiding back behind the curtains, and when T'challa had spotted her, he hadn't turned her in, only sent a wink flashing in her direction and turned away from her, back to his destiny.  No one ever thought to show her how to take a punch or escape a choke hold.  There would be no need, not when her brother was there to protect her.

And he always had protected her, even at the end.  It's what he always would do.

 _Help me now, brother._ She thinks, kneels aching on the hardwood floor of her bedroom.   Shuri does not pray to the gods now- does not trust them anymore, because that thing that came down from space must have been some type of god and who could trust a thing like that could ever be loving?   _Guide me when there is no light.  Show me the way.  Teach me everything that they never thought I needed to know._

He doesn't answer.  

She's not sure she really expected him to, but that's alright.  She always had been good at finding the answers on her own, no matter how hard the question.

**Author's Note:**

> come find me on Instagram @olive.writes.fanfic


End file.
